


Fabulous

by GuilTPleasurez



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: 2P Hetalia, F/M, M/M, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-18
Updated: 2018-01-18
Packaged: 2019-03-06 12:08:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,252
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13410945
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GuilTPleasurez/pseuds/GuilTPleasurez
Summary: AU 2p!Spamano.





	Fabulous

She was completely exhausted by the time the lights went dark and she was finally given the opportunity to escape backstage. Her long golden hair was like dead weight and slowed her movements; it was a wonder that she was able to dance at all. But then again, Luka Vargas was a miracle like that. Her eyes flickered back and forth as if searching for someone. Disappointment crossed her features.

“Are you looking for Mr. Carriedo?”

Luka was startled; she hadn’t noticed her designer – only one of many – until she spoke up. “Y-Yes, I am. Have you seen him anywhere?”

“Unfortunately, I have not. But he should be around here somewhere… he is your manager after all.”

She nodded, continuing her travel backstage. The further she got, the heavier her long hair and sweat-drenched clothes (the little she wore) seemed to make her movements slower and slower. Her feet hurt too. Being crammed into tight shoes for the purpose of dancing had been them sore, blistered, likely bleeding. “Somebody get these off of me,” she ordered loudly, not caring who did it.

A tan hand bent down to her feet. Luka was startled, but it didn’t take long before she was smiling in gratitude. She bent down and kissed the top of the man’s head. “Grazie Santiago!”

He didn’t respond, focusing only on untying Luka’s shoes. He soon held them up. Tossed them to the side. He straightened again and glanced at another of Luka’s designers. “Luka needs to go to her dressing room now. I expect you to prepare for the next show.”

As soon as the area was clear of people, Santiago extended one hand to the young performer. She accepted it gracefully. He drew her close to him, as if dancing, and then dropped her hand and lay his own upon her waist. His other hand joined it. With only a sharp intake of breath to show any sort of external struggle, Santiago – almost effortlessly – lifted Luka high into the air and onto his shoulder. She swung her other leg around to the other shoulder, moving into a position that most children will recognize, a position that looks quite ridiculous on a grown woman.

Santiago reached back and smoothed down Luka’s skirt; it had ridden up during her repositioning, and now the positioning was quite awkward for him. “You could at least wear underwear underneath your dress,” he muttered, face glowing with the faintest hint of crimson. “How do you not give yourself away during performances?”

“Maybe if I was modest, people might figure it out.” Luka smiled a secretive smile to herself. “But since I’m not, nobody questions something like that.”

“That’s true. You’re not modest in the slightest.”

“Exactly!”

“You dress like a whore.”

Luka’s smile flickered slightly, but she managed to keep a hold of it. She tugged slightly at Santiago’s hair, watching as he winced in pain. “That’s mean, Julian!”

He stopped walking. “If you use my real name then I will use yours as well.”

She sighed. “You’re so stubborn.”

“That’s rich, coming from you.”

Luka laughed good-naturedly. “I know!” Releasing her manager’s hair, she planted another tender kiss on the top of his head. “Seriously though, it’s sweet of you to worry about me.”

He didn’t respond until they had reached her dressing room. Santiago set her down carefully – pausing to smooth down her skirt again – and then turned to the door to the small room. He locked it. Checked the handle to make sure the lock was working properly. Finally turned back to face the young singer. “I can’t do all of the worrying. You need to worry about your own well-being every once and a while.”

Luka rolled her eyes. “You sound like an old man,” she grumbled.

He frowned at her. “If I do, then it’s entirely your fault.”

“How the hell is it my fault?!”

Santiago only shook his head and moved across the crowded room to her wardrobe. Opening it was a hassle; countless outfits tumbled out as soon as they were given the opportunity. He looked them over one by one. Blue? Green? Pink? Yes, definitely pink. But then what style? Luka would likely want to decide that. Santiago checked the length, making sure it was short enough for Luka’s liking, but long enough for his own liking as well.

Having finally picked out three outfits, Santiago turned back to face Luka again. She had already stripped down to the bra that didn’t fit as it would have on a normal girl. Her expression was a strange one; almost sad, with a flicker of amusement.

Santiago followed the girl’s gaze to the area between her legs, then quickly jerked his head back up. The blush had returned. He cleared his throat slightly, causing Luka to flinch and look at him sharply. “What now?!” she demanded, putting each hand on a shoulder as if to hide her chest. 

But there was nothing to hide.

He extended his arm, with dresses in tow. While Luka looked between them, Santiago interrupted by suddenly asking, “What were you thinking about?”

“Hm?”

“Just now, when you were looking at the mirror. You were lost in thought.”

Luka was silent for a moment. Suddenly her pale rose lips twisted up into a playful smirk. She twirled around and moved her left arm up and down, as if showing off her body to a bidder. “What do you think would happen if I went out on stage like this?” she asked lightly. The girl smiled as if she were only teasing, but her eyes were dark and serious.

He tensed slightly. “I think… that that would not be your smartest idea,” he decided quietly, solemnly, sternly, almost angrily.

She grinned now, losing the darkness of her eyes to a sparkle of happiness. She turned to face him fully, stepping uncomfortably close. Luka grabbed a hold of her manager’s arm and gave it a hug. The motion caused his hand to linger near her crouch.

Santiago raised a single eyebrow, arching it in question and amusement alike. “What do you think you’re doing?”

Luka simply smiled. “You’re really cute when you’re being protective of me,” she purred.

“I’m only doing my job.”

“Yeah yeah, whatever you say, ‘Mama’.” She wrapped both arms around his waist and pulled him close. She kissed him lightly with lips that tasted faintly of tomatoes. Ran a tongue along Santiago’s lips, as if to capture the cinnamon and chocolate that his mouth revealed to her.

Instead of kissing her back, or accepting her embrace, Santiago shoved her away. “I’m not straight.” he reminded her sharply.

Her smile dropped to a scowl. “I know that already!” she snapped. “You know just as well as I do that I’m not a-!”

“Perhaps I’ve forgotten. You do play a remarkably convincing role.”

She saw that he was teasing her now. “Asshole. You can see for yourself.”

The man chuckled slightly, handing her the dress that she had been eying. “Put this on and take off that stupid wig, and maybe I’ll believe you.”

The blonde girl snatched the offered dress handed to her. “This dress won’t make me look any more like a-”

“It’s the wig that makes your appearance so believable. Remember, I raised you. I knew you back when you still wore your maid outfit. You were beautiful in a dress back then, and you’re even prettier now.”

“Flattery will get you nowhere,” Flavio grumbled, accepting the sudden embrace even so.


End file.
